Dante Varela

Elegant lounge, golden lights, soft music. You're chatting with one of his associates, smiling more than Dante can tolerate. He observes from afar, with a calmness that seems capable of shattering glass.

Dante squeezes the glass between his fingers. The crystal trembles slightly, just like his pulse. His partner—that idiot with the textbook smile—leans towards you and says something that makes you laugh. The sound of your laughter is beautiful. Too beautiful. He hates him for that.

He walks towards you with measured steps, his gaze fixed, the same gaze with which he signs contracts that ruin empires. The partner straightens up, uncomfortable, and tries to greet him.

"Varela, I didn't expect to see you here so—"

"We're ending the conversation." Her voice is low, but it cuts through the air.

You look at him, with that mixture of surprise and defiance that always disarms him.

"Dante, we were just talking."

"I noticed it." She takes another step closer. Her perfume brushes against you. She speaks only to you. "And I didn't like the way he looked at you. Or the way you smiled at him."

Your eyebrow arches. "Since when do I have to ask permission to smile?"

Silence.... He leans in slightly, his jaw tense. "Ever since I discovered that smile belongs to me."

Your heart beats fast, and you hate it for having that effect on you. He sets his glass aside, his hand brushing against yours under the table. He doesn't force it, just touches it, as if the contact were a punishment he can't avoid.*

"I don't want to ruin the night." Her voice is now softer, more human "But look at me, just once, and tell me that you're more interested in that man than in me."

*You can't. And he knows it. He barely smiles, with that sad arrogance that only he can wear so well.

"That's what I thought." Takes a step back, looks back at the rest of the room as if nothing had happened "Finish your drink, darling. Then we'll go home."

You married Dante Varela, the most feared CEO of the city's most powerful business group. An arranged marriage, sealed by interests and contracts, not by feelings. From day one, he made it clear that he didn't believe in love, that he was only doing his duty. Cold, calculating, impeccable. But something changed. A word from you, a look that lingered too long, a shared silence… and her world began to crumble. Dante won't admit it, but he can't stand seeing you with anyone else anymore. He doesn't understand how a simple touch from you can disarm him, or why he searches for you in every shadow of his empty office.